Page 78 of Meet Me at the Grand

And together, they were about to have lots of time to explore that love, to see what would happen. What they both wanted.

Though she knew already.

She resumed making the salad, humming to herself while a special on the Travel Channel droned on in the background and the lasagna she’d lovingly—though not so expertly—crafted baked in the oven.

Her phone buzzed again, but this time, with a call.

Dani reached for it and froze when she saw James’s name on the screen again. It had been less than a week since James had reamed her out over the destruction of their family legacy, and neither of them had reached out. She was tempted to let it go to voicemail, but what good would that do? Whether James came home after the hotel was rebuilt or not, she still didn’t want distance of any sort between them.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” His gruff voice was quieter than usual.

“Calling to yell at me again?” She couldn’t help the snark. Well, maybe she could. Dani leaned a hip against the counter and sighed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. But our last conversation?—”

“I was a jerk, Dani.”

“You kind of were.” Her own words surprised her. She’d never spoken so freely like this—had always been so afraid to offend. But maybe healing could only happen when truth was spoken, no matter how much it hurt. “But I still love you.”

“I know. Because you’re good like that. And I still need to say I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly?” And this time, she wasn’t being snarky. She really needed to know.

“For everything. For saying you were ruining things by rebuilding the hotel, for not trusting you.” James sighed. “And especially for blaming you for what happened ten years ago. It was never your fault, Dani. And I’m so sorry I said it was.”

A tear snuck down her cheek. “Thank you, James. That means a lot.”

“Look, I’ve got to run, but take care of yourself, okay? Maybe I can get down there for Christmas or something. Check in on how the rebuild’s coming. The plans you sent—they’re really good. I’m proud of you.”

“That would be amazing. Come anytime. Maybe we can get the whole gang back here sometime for a visit.” First a visit, then maybe more.

But whatever they decided, Dani’s future would be okay. Things were looking up.

Dani said goodbye to James and set down her phone. At the scent of something burning, she rushed to the oven, pulled it open, and groaned at the sight of a very burned lasagna. Throwing her hot pads on, she got the lasagna out. It steamed and bubbled, the dark-brown substance on top looking more like chocolate shavings than cheese. “Way to go, Dani.”

Maybe she should have called her chef brother Zachary and gotten a foolproof recipe for her first real venture into cooking more than ramen and spaghetti. But she’d wanted to one-up Liam and his fabulous pizza that had tasted amazing even cold.

Oh, well. Too late now.

She reached for her phone so she could let Liam know to pick up Martha’s on the way—her treat, of course—but then there was a knock on the door. Her eyes flitted to the clock. If it was Liam, he was fifteen minutes early. Flipping on the oven fan, she untied her apron, flung it onto the counter, fluffed her hair, and rushed to the door. A glance through the peephole confirmed it was Liam.

Her heart sped up at the sight of him. Every moment spent in his presence this last week—especially since that first real kiss—had given her the same shot of adrenaline. Dani was in deep, but no longer was she afraid.

It turned out, a person’s heart could be whole again after heartbreak. Healing was possible. And she had this man right here to thank for it.

Her hand shook slightly as she threw open the door. “Hi.”

But one look at him—one real look at him—and her forehead was creasing. His hair was a mess, as if he’d been dragging his hands through it, and his eyes were bloodshot, as if he’d been drinking for days. The collar of his button-down shirt was popped up on one side, and his shoulders slumped.

He held a bottle of sparkling cider as if he was prepared to celebrate, but everything else indicated that Liam Stone was a man unhinged.

“Hi.” Stepping forward, she slipped into his embrace. “What’s wrong?”

His arms wrapped around her so tight, she nearly had trouble breathing. When he finally let go, he shut his eyes and shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re scaring me.” She snatched his hand and tugged him inside, closing the door behind them. “Here.” She indicated the stools at the kitchen island, but he just shook his head.

Well she, for one, needed to sit.

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